


The Pillow Box: Collected Slave-verse Tumblr Fics

by Dira Sudis (dsudis)



Series: All These Burning Hearts in Hell [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Bananas, Bathing/Washing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Eating Disorders, Food Issues, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kneeling, Master/Slave, POV Outsider, Rewards, Robots, Vomiting, Weight Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-07-29 11:11:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7682167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsudis/pseuds/Dira%20Sudis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collected ficlets from the All These Burning Hearts in Hell 'verse, starring Tony and Threetoo with Threetoo's pillow nest in a supporting role. Prompts for each ficlet in the chapter's summary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prostration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts:
> 
>  
> 
> _threetoo + prostration_
> 
>  
> 
> _Threetoo crashing into as formal of a kneel as he can get in front of Tony because he's panicked about something_

Tony woke up already in the act of freezing, heart racing with the awareness that he was _not alone_. He didn't dare open his eyes and give himself away until he knew for sure where he was, who was in his space, what they'd already seen--

 _32557038, sir,_ JARVIS murmured in his ear, and Tony's eyes flashed open before JARVIS even got all of Threetoo's designation out. Tony was sitting up as JARVIS went on, _He seems to be in some distress_.

Tony nearly kicked Threetoo in the head swinging his legs over the edge of the bed; he was curled down on his knees, touching his forehead to the floor less than a foot from Tony's bed. Tony jerked his feet back just in time for Threetoo to raise himself up so his body was parallel to the floor, his face still turned down. He supported himself on his hand for a moment, then raised it to touch to his heart and his lips before spreading his hand across his eyes and lowering his forehead to the floor again.

"J," Tony breathed, trying to get his own heartrate under control and parse what the hell was going on beside his bed. "What...?"

 _He arrived at your bedside and began this series of gestures just before you woke,_ JARVIS informed him as Threetoo pushed up again. _He had been asleep; given the evidence I would suspect he had a nightmare._

And now he was panicked, thinking he'd done something wrong and needed to plead for his master's forgiveness. Tony had seen this kind of thing before, though never from this angle.

As he thought it, Threetoo touched his forehead to the floor for the third time. Instead of rising back up he lowered himself further, lying facedown with his right arm and the bandaged stump of his left arm extended in would-be symmetry. 

Tony shook off his own blank paralysis, double-checked that he was wearing both a t-shirt and pajama pants, and slid down to the ground, kneeling by Threetoo's left side. "Hey, sweetheart, no, no, come here."

He saw a little jerk go through Threetoo's body. He wondered what voice Threetoo had expected, where Threetoo thought he was. Not Tony, and not here, he was pretty goddamn certain. 

"It's okay, you don't have to do all that kneeling and bowing for me, Threetoo. Come here, let me see you, can you look at me?"

He dared to touch Threetoo when Threetoo's head turned fractionally toward him. Tony still couldn't see his face under the dark mop of his hair, but at least he knew Threetoo would know whose hand it was. Tony put his hand on Threetoo's right side and tugged gently, drawing Threetoo closer. 

"Come here, sweetheart, let me see you so we can figure out what's wrong. Whatever it is, I'll figure out how to fix it, but I need to know what the problem is. I need data, remember?"

Threetoo's fingers twitched through something that looked like the signs he used sometimes that JARVIS refused to translate. Threetoo also gave a tiny twitch of a nod and curled himself closer to Tony. 

Tony actually pulled then, using his other hand to help him haul Threetoo up. Tony spread his knees wide and sat back on his heels, and Threetoo halfway cooperated with being propped against Tony's chest, hiding his face against Tony's shoulder. That was an improvement over the floor, at least. 

Tony petted his hair and nuzzled against his temple. "Hey, baby, it's okay. Whatever you're worried about, it's gonna be okay. All I want is for you to get healthy and strong, so I'm worried about you missing some sleep, but I'm not going to punish you. We've just got to figure out what you need. Can you tell me why you thought you needed to do that? Did you think I was going to be angry about something?"

Threetoo nodded against his shoulder, and he raised his hand enough for Tony to see him start spelling. Tony made a one-handed version of the sign for _translate_ , not that JARVIS really needed to be told. 

JARVIS murmured, in the monotone that was marginally less creepy than him trying to interpret Threetoo's body language into vocal tones, _Master. Sorry. Sleeping. Sorry. Master._

"Shh, shh, baby." Tony got one hand down to Threetoo's hip, patting lightly up his thighs to check for some sign that Threetoo was apologizing for making a mess in his sleep. They'd been around that block before, but Threetoo was clean and dry this time, so it was nothing that straightforward tonight. 

"Threetoo," Tony pulled back a little and coaxed Threetoo more upright. Threetoo immediately contorted, cringing, and Tony knelt up to make it easier for Threetoo to be positioned lower than he was. He put his hand to the back of Threetoo's neck as he did, squeezing reassuringly. 

There was probably a right and a wrong way to ask what he had to ask, given that Threetoo had to have more real trauma floating around in his past than any given nightmare could hold. It was the middle of the night, though, and Tony was just barely past the adrenaline of his own terrified jolt into consciousness. 

"Was it a bad dream, baby?" Tony murmured, brushing back Threetoo's hair enough to show his eyes squeezed shut and tears on his cheek. "Did you dream you did something bad, or I was angry about something, and wake up and think you needed to fix it?"

Threetoo's eyes opened, and he looked up at Tony with an expression Tony couldn't even guess at the meaning of. 

"Maybe not, maybe it was something else--you can tell me," Tony offered. "But JARVIS told me you were sleeping before you came in here, so I thought it might have been a dream you had that scared you. I have dreams like that sometimes."

Tony really, really had to stop compulsively not-lying to Threetoo at some point. But it seemed okay to say it in the middle of the night, with Threetoo crying on the floor in front of him. More than okay: necessary, to tell Threetoo that they were the same in this.

That hypothesis crashed and burned immediately, as Threetoo's expression shifted to anxious concern--for Tony, when it was Threetoo who had been scared into desperate submission a few seconds ago. He raised his right hand toward Tony and then jerked it back before he could touch.

 _Master?_ JARVIS translated quietly. _S... C... A... R..._

When Threetoo's faltering fingers stilled, Tony said, "I get scared, sweetheart, yeah. I do, even me. When I dream that someone's angry with me or someone's going to hurt me, or someone I care about is hurt, or lost, or..."

Threetoo pushed himself up to lean against Tony's chest again, patting quickly at Tony's shoulder with his right hand. Tony shifted expertly to keep Threetoo away from the unyielding shape of the Machine at the center of his chest without seeming to be hiding anything, and gave up on getting any more words out of his tightening throat. He hugged Threetoo again instead. 

"But I'm okay now," Tony said quietly, and that was close enough to not being a lie. "And you're o--you're here, and I'm here with you. I want to help you know that whatever you dreamed, it's not happening now. Can I help you do that?"

 _Already_ , JARVIS translated. Threetoo snuggled closer against Tony, and Tony pressed a kiss to his hair and squeezed him gingerly.

"Well, anything worth doing is worth overdoing," Tony informed him. "So, even though now you know where you are and who's here, before you go back to sleep we're going to make sure that you're feeling very, very sure that your master is looking after you and only wants you to feel good."

 _Master wants me to get fat_ , JARVIS translated, and then added with his own distinct intonations, _U will be bringing up a tray shortly._

Tony smacked a noisy kiss on the top of Threetoo's head and said, "There's your reward for reminding me that you need a midnight snack before you get back to sleep, sweetheart."

Threetoo gave a happy little wriggle and Tony smiled and pushed him gently back before he pushed himself up to his feet. "Come on, back to your room, your floor is softer."

Threetoo crawled at Tony's side, moving with his usual confident gait on three limbs. He pulled a few pillows out of the box so they could curl up on the floor together while they drank the warm beverages JARVIS had sent up--sweetened steamed almond milk for Threetoo, and some kind of aggressively soothing herbal tea for Tony. 

Threetoo, as he mostly did with beverages, managed to drink his warm milk on his own once Tony gave it to him. Tony's job was to dunk gingersnaps in it and feed them to Threetoo bite by bite until he was dozing in Tony's lap, full-bellied and content. 

Tony prodded him back into his nest of pillows, where as usual Threetoo declined to pull the curtain shut on himself. Tony leaned his elbow on the edge of the box, watching Threetoo burrow in to sleep. He smiled back at Threetoo's drowsy grin when he squirmed around to lie facing in Tony's direction.

Tony meant to go back to his own bed after that, where his own nightmares wouldn't bother Threetoo. He stayed to keep watch just another few minutes, relaxing against the pillows Threetoo had left behind on the floor. 

When he woke to find Threetoo still peacefully sleeping while the view through the skylight faded from black to blue, Tony was facedown on the floor. Even before he picked his head up to look, he already knew exactly where he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ficlet has been edited slightly from its original form, [which you can find on Tumblr!](http://dsudis.tumblr.com/post/146978975074/pillow-box-fill-1)


	2. One-Star Review

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous prompt: _I’d like to see the first time Threetoo tells Tony one of his rewards is thumbs-down (not counting the bathrobe, obvs)._

Coming up to his master's penthouse had not been the end of the tests and puzzles Threetoo was presented with. Though his master encouraged him to sleep as much as he wanted to, in his own pillow box bed or on the pillows that he found near all the places his master spent time sitting, whenever he was awake Threetoo was presented with a tablet to work on, or holographic puzzles floating in the air in front of him.

It didn't take him long to notice that his master was indulging him; nearly all the tests and puzzles were the kind he had named as his favorite when he spoke to Emily on his first day. They weren't the kind that asked him questions he didn't know the answers to--names and dates and places--and they didn't get messed up when time started to stutter on him. He was allowed to go as slowly as he wanted; the numbers and shapes and symbols waited patiently for him, unmoving. 

He finished a series of puzzles on the tablet--he knew he was done when the screen said _Time for a break!_ \--and looked up at his master. His master was giving him a thoughtful smile, frowning a little but obviously more pleased than not.

"Looks like you haven't forgotten Trig," his master said. "We'll get some harder stuff for you tomorrow. Meantime, I think you could use a reward for that performance. Come here."

His master stood, and Threetoo shook himself free of the blanket U had draped over him while he was dozing and crawled after his master to the kitchen.

"Oh, hey, fruit, fruit is good for growing people, right?" His master picked up a banana. "Should've given you this right off the bat, probably, but better late than never."

His master pinched the end of the banana, making the peel come apart neatly, then broke off an inch-long piece from the end and offered it to Threetoo.

Threetoo knelt up and took it delicately from his master's fingers, eagerly anticipating the treat, only to be shocked into stillness by the actual taste-- _non_ -taste--of the thing in his mouth. He glanced up at his master, searching for some sign that he had played the trick on purpose--perhaps the frown had really been a frown? Perhaps Threetoo had done something wrong on the test. Maybe he wasn't supposed to remember Trig?

"Threetoo?" His master was frowning, but not angrily or cruelly, nor did he look like he was anticipating the outcome of a nasty joke. He just looked concerned. "Thumbs up or down, sweetheart?"

Threetoo forced himself to keep chewing, which did not improve the wrong texture of it or the taste. He swallowed with an effort. It wasn't bitter, or spoiled, or harmful. It was just... wrong.

His master crouched down to look him directly in the eye. "Hey. Threetoo--are you okay? Does your throat itch? Are you breathing okay? U, where's the Epi--" 

U rolled up, brandishing a yellow tube at their master, who had his hands on Threetoo's face.

"Threetoo, honey, deep breath in and out for me."

Threetoo obeyed, breathing in and out. It did nothing to get rid of the taste of whatever he had just eaten.

"Okay, not violently allergic to bananas, good," his master said. "So... what'd you think of that, can you tell me? Good reward? Not good?"

His master already knew the answer, Threetoo realized. He also realized--even though he knew he wasn't really supposed to remember Before, or other masters he'd had, because only _his_ master was relevant now--that he would have been careful once, not to let such a reaction show on his face. Indeed, from any other master, something as tasteless and wrong as that piece of... banana, if his master said so... _would_ have been a treat.

But his master gave him good things, nice things, and always wanted to know whether Threetoo liked them. He wanted Threetoo to like them. To be happy. And Threetoo... 

Threetoo cautiously raised his hand, thumb firmly pointed down.

His master grinned, and leaned in and kissed his forehead with a loud smack.

"Thanks for saying so, baby. Bad reward, got it. No more bananas." His master stood up and went over to the refrigerator, opening it up to show the selection of brightly-colored drinks arrayed along the lowest shelf. 

He raised his eyebrows. Threetoo put up his pointing finger and mimed counting along the row to the fifth one, which was a lurid purple. His master took it out, uncapped it, and handed the bottle to Threetoo.

His master resumed speaking as Threetoo drank thirstily, wiping away the vile taste from his mouth with sugary artificial purple grape. "Bananas are lower than tofu and possibly on a par with bathrobes, understood, and now you've got some juice to cancel out the bad reward. But I _also_ owe you a really special reward for telling me you didn't like your first reward. Can't just be fruit or a hug or something, I want something that will stick with you, help you remember--"

U chirped helpfully and offered a small square box to their master.

"Oh, hey," his master took the box and opened it, taking something out--Threetoo could hear it clink against other things in the box, but his master held up just one as he grinned down at Threetoo. "Hey, here's a special reward, what do you think of this?"

He crouched again, showing it to Threetoo up close, and Threetoo's jaw dropped open. Time stuttered badly. He nearly dropped his bottle of purple juice, but U caught it for him.

When time steadied around him, his master was still waiting patiently, holding the gold star where Threetoo could see it, and Threetoo jerked his thumb up.

"Great." His master sat down right there on the kitchen floor. "Gonna need your collar off for just a second. U, soldering iron? And get rid of that banana, no more bananas in the penthouse, Threetoo hates bananas."

Threetoo tilted his chin up for his master to unfasten his shiny red collar, and watched eagerly as he selected a place for the gold star. He put it a few inches to the left of the ring that held his gold identification tag, and smiled at Threetoo as he pushed a sharp piece through the leather to attach it. "This is gonna make you a little asymmetrical, but you can deal with that for a while, right? Just until you earn another special reward, then you'll have another one of these to even you out."

Threetoo smiled back, understanding the teasing layered under his master's words. He touched his right hand to the bandages--thinner and smaller every day--covering the end of his left stump, and summoned up words. "Asymmetrical is okay with me, sir." 

His master snorted and wagged the soldering iron at him. Threetoo noticed the gesture mostly because, despite the threatening proximity, he knew his master had no intention of burning him with it. 

"I see what you're doing there, sweetheart, and I appreciate it, but you are not earning your second star that fast, even for a complete sentence with a five-syllable word in it. You're getting _ice cream_ for talking, as soon as I'm done with this." 

Threetoo grinned and signed _thank you_ before he flashed another thumbs up. His master just shook his head, still smiling, and went back to soldering. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [You can also find this chapter on Tumblr!](http://dsudis.tumblr.com/post/149682057729/pillow-box-fill-2-one-star-review)


	3. Bathtime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Threetoo bathing. Tony washing his hair. Lots of good touching. :)_
> 
> _BUBBLE BATHSSssssssssssss_
> 
> _seconding bathing!_
> 
> _Threetoo getting a bath? Traumatic flashbacks optional._

Threetoo had a _morning routine_ established by his sixth day in his master's penthouse. When he woke up he had a drink of water and gave some water to his plant, checking on its glossy green leaves and adjusting its position to catch as much morning sunlight as it could.

After that he climbed out of his pillow bed, and as soon as he crossed over the edge of the box JARVIS greeted him. "Good morning, 32257038. The time is 8:04 AM and today is Tuesday, the 30th of June. Mr. Stark is currently in his lab downstairs, but he will be returning to the penthouse shortly with breakfast." 

Threetoo signed  _thank you_ to JARVIS and straightened up to his feet, stretching and testing his balance. He was feeling stronger, even though his weight kept dropping every day; the burns on his feet and back had healed, and the only bandages he had left were the ones on the stump of his left arm. Even those might be gone soon, and then...

Threetoo pushed that thought aside and walked easily to the bathroom. He relieved himself--still marveling a little at the painlessness of it all--and then started washing up, keeping an ear out for his master's return. So far his master had never come back before he was finished, or without JARVIS warning him, but it wouldn't do to be careless.

He brushed his teeth, shaved, and scrubbed all the places that tended to smell, then washed his hand over again for good measure.  He lingered for another moment, studying himself in the mirror. He was still showing far too many bones, his belly concave like--like--there was an image just out of reach... 

His head twinged a warning, and he focused on finger-combing his hair, checking whether it was getting too dirty to touch. His master had applied a nice-smelling spray that cleaned his hair without water, taking time to comb it out section by section, twice in the last six days. It had been two days since the last time.

He would probably be due to have his hair cleaned again soon, but maybe...

Threetoo touched the tape securing the bandage on his stump, and then he heard his master call out from the elevator, "Threetoo, I'm home!"

Threetoo dropped smoothly to his knees and crawled out of the bathroom to await his master in the usual place in his own room, right beside the shelf with his collar.

He had only been kneeling there for a moment when his master arrived, carrying a tray that smelled promisingly of breakfast. 

"Hey, sweetheart." His master bent and kissed the top of his head, setting the tray on top of the dresser and pulling over the stool that let him sit comfortably with Threetoo at his feet. "Good morning, is it a good morning? What do you think?"

Threetoo smiled and nodded. "Good morning, sir."

"Excellent, glad to hear it, very good," his master rattled off, tapping one finger against Threetoo's chin. Threetoo tilted his face up, letting his master stroke his fingers lightly over Threetoo's throat and around the back of his neck. There was never any irritation for his master to find. His new red collar was so softly padded on the inside, Threetoo couldn't imagine how there ever would be, even if his master allowed him to wear it night and day.

"Okay, looking good here," his master murmured, picking up the red collar with its gold reward star. The gold tag with Threetoo's identification number on it made a happy little metallic sound as his master wrapped the collar around Threetoo's throat. His master fastened it swiftly and tucked his fingers in to check that it sat comfortably against Threetoo's throat.

"One of these days you're gonna start getting fat," his master promised him. "We're gonna have to let this thing out of a notch sooner or later."

Threetoo nodded agreeably and didn't look toward the breakfast tray.

"J," his master said. "You got Threetoo's weight for today?"

"One hundred fifteen--" Threetoo couldn't help tensing in anticipation, hope and dread all at once. "--point four pounds."

Threetoo's shoulders sagged, and his master shook his head, mussing Threetoo's hair with a gentle hand. "Hey, that's better--you're only down three-tenths today, we're getting there. You're stepping up in calories again today, you're gonna turn the tide soon."

Threetoo nodded obediently, though he knew that _soon_ was still just the beginning. He was probably still at least two or three days away from even stopping losing weight, never mind starting to gain it back; he was still weeks, maybe months, from being ready to serve his master properly. Something quaked inside him, uneasy at the thought. He had to--he had to be _useful_ , he had to _serve_ or he was--was--

His master squeezed his shoulder. "You're doing exactly what I want you to be doing, sweetheart." The uneasiness evaporated, leaving Threetoo suddenly calm. What could he but calm when he was with his master? His master was smiling. "Resting, eating, getting strong, that's your job right now. Come on, let's have breakfast." 

His master probably hadn't eaten any breakfast of his own before Threetoo woke up. JARVIS had said a few things that made it apparent to Threetoo that his master could be forgetful about such things with regard to himself--but when it came to Threetoo, his special project, he was meticulous. Threetoo was being useful after all, his mere existence reminding his master to eat.

He felt warm, like some secret, silent reward had been dispensed from inside him.

Threetoo ate cheesy eggs and pieces of fruit and toast from his master's hand. His master gave him a glass to drink from, and Threetoo sipped sweet juice between bites, watching as his master enjoyed his own breakfast. His master talked mostly to JARVIS while they ate, dictating messages and reviewing plans, so Threetoo didn't have to pay special attention to anything but eating his breakfast and sitting quietly between his master's knees. All the food was familiar at breakfast, so he didn't even have to rate anything; his master already knew that Threetoo liked everything he was being fed. 

It was only when breakfast ended that Threetoo had to think again. His heart beat faster, anticipating. He knew what came after breakfast. He _had_  been getting better in one way, at least.

His master wiped his own face and then Threetoo's, even though they were both tidy eaters and didn't need it. His master picked up the hand sanitizer from the shelf and cleaned his hands, and then he pulled over the kit from the dresser top, pushing the breakfast tray out of the way so he could open it there. "All right, bandage time, huh? Singular, bandage. This is the last one."

Threetoo nodded, dropping his gaze so that he wouldn't look as if he were begging. But he hoped--if his master remembered--if today was the day.. 

"And I think we talked about how, when you're all done with bandages, you're going to get a _present_ to celebrate," his master murmured, wetting a cotton ball with stuff that made the tape on his bandages unstick painlessly. He wiped it over all the tape holding the bandage on his stump, then peeled it away.

Threetoo couldn't see the end of his stump without swinging it up to his face. While he was holding it still for his master, he could only watch his master's expression to know what was under the bandage. 

His master was frowning at first, looking without touching. He picked up a square of clean gauze and wiped it over the end of Threetoo's stump, and it came away wet and shiny with ointment, but no blood or pus. His master wrapped his left hand around Threetoo's stump then, prodding gently along the healing wound with his right index finger. It didn't hurt, not even the tiniest twinge. His master glanced toward Threetoo's hand, but Threetoo held it flat and absolutely steady.

His master smiled like the sun coming into view at the edge of Threetoo's skylight, his bright brown eyes jumping up from Threetoo's stump to meet Threetoo's gaze. "There you go, baby. You have a scar instead of a wound--it's all closed."

Threetoo grinned widely but held himself still, his stump held in his master's grip, trying not to presume anything. His master might still decide that the scar was too new, that it should still be bandaged.

His master took another piece of gauze and dripped some alcohol onto it. It felt cool, but didn't sting at all, as his master used it to clean the end of his stump. When he finished, sitting back slightly to look at the unbandaged stump, Threetoo felt more naked with those few square inches exposed than he did about the rest of his unclothed body. 

His master met his eyes again and nodded decisively. "Yep. No more bandages. That's healed. It needs to dry out and get used to the air now. So now you get a present--did you decide what to ask for?"

Threetoo licked his lips and nodded. His master had made an assortment of suggestions, and Threetoo had gone over some of them with JARVIS the day before, working out just what he wanted to ask for with JARVIS's assurance that his master would grant the request.

Threetoo swallowed and then said the words he had practiced. "I would like you to give me a bath, please, sir."

"Huh," his master said, smiling. "What do you know, I think we just got eight new bottles of bubble bath in the grocery delivery yesterday, so your timing is perfect."

Threetoo's mouth flashed into a big, wide smile. JARVIS had anticipated this moment without _quite_  telling his master for him, smoothing the way for Threetoo and ensuring that he would ask for something his master would be pleased to give.

He caught a startled expression on his master's face for a second, his master's gaze dropping from Threetoo's eyes to his mouth before his master's smile also widened. Threetoo already knew that his master liked him to be happy, but every time it was confirmed it got easier to really _be_ happy and to be sure that being happy was the right thing to do. He felt that rush of warmth inside again, the secret reward.

"J, please run a bath for Threetoo," his master said, and the sound of running water in the bathroom started up instantly. "Come on, let's go pick out what you're gonna smell like today." 

Threetoo crawled eagerly after his master, out of the bedslave's room and back to the bathroom. The enormous tub was positioned under another skylight, and the lowest part was already filled with water. Threetoo could feel the heat of it rising up into the air, welcoming like a spot in the sun or in front of one of the fireplaces. His master waved him toward it while he went and rummaged through a cabinet, retrieving a stack of soft fluffy towels in assorted colors and patterns, plus a wire basket full of full plastic bottles. He brought all of this over to the edge of the bathtub where Threetoo was sitting on his heels, waiting.

"Go on, get--hang on." Threetoo froze at the contradicted order.

His master set everything down and bent over to unfasten his collar, setting it on the edge of the tub, ready to be put back on as soon as he was out. Without either his collar or his bandages, Threetoo felt sharply, newly naked--but he  _ought_ to be naked with his master. It was a privilege to show all of himself to his master, to offer himself for his master's pleasure.

Threetoo crawled down into the tub and settled in the lowest part, wiggling his toes underwater and enjoying the way warmth surrounded his ass, his genitals, rising up over his bony hips. His knees rising out of the water seemed to double in his vision for an instant--he had seen this before--and then time stuttered through a low warning throb of pain at the base of his skull, and Threetoo saw only his own knees, his master's bathtub.

He had nothing to remember. Nothing came before this. He was having his first bath now. His master was showing him special favor by allowing it.

His master settled on a higher ledge of the stepped tub with his feet bracketing Threetoo's body, his feet bare and pants rolled up nearly to his knees. A whole row of bottles and a basket full of other items were beside him, having appeared while Threetoo was lost in the stuttering of time. The water was up to Threetoo's belly, too.

His master began opening and sniffing the bottles. The third one, he held out to Threetoo. "How about this? Smells like something you'd like to eat."

Threetoo closed his eyes and breathed in, then opened them to grin up at his master. It _did_ smell like something he'd like to eat; it smelled like hard candy, citrus-sweet. His master tried a few others, then offered him another option--sweet again, but softer, laden with sugar and vanilla like a cookie. One of the bottles made his master frown, capping it again decisively and rolling it toward the bathroom door without remarking on it; Threetoo saw U grab the bottle and whir quietly away with it.

The bottle after that met with his master's approval, and was offered to him. The smelled less obviously candied--apple and spice, a cleaner, sharper scent. "Orange, vanilla, or apple, sweetheart, what'll it be?"

His master positioned the three bottles in a little row, making it easy for Threetoo to point once he made his selection. After a moment he chose the sweetest and softest, extending his finger to almost touch the vanilla bottle. 

"Beautiful, okay," his master assented. He picked something out of the basket and unwrapped it from a twist of paper, dropping what looked like a fistful of candies into the bath. They fizzed and foamed in the water, filling it with mounds of sweet-smelling bubbles that blanketed the water, hiding Threetoo from view as the water rose up his body.

He felt a twinge of worry at that--he was naked, he was to be seen--but his master was already soaping a cloth and beckoning Threetoo closer. "Let's have those feet, sweetheart.” 

The worry dissolved in certainty. His master wanted to touch him, slippery-wet and sweet-smelling. It was only his first bath, but Threetoo knew how this worked. He smiled and lounged back in the water, raising one foot up in a graceful line.

His master snorted and smiled, and then began soaping Threetoo's foot and up his leg with a soft cloth. Threetoo let his eyes close, and his certainty spread through him, painless and steady. There would be no punishment-pain now, and time would proceed in perfect order, as long as he obeyed. As long as he pleased his master.

Threetoo scooted forward at a gentle tug on his foot, letting his master wash all the way up his thigh. His master was quiet, and Threetoo opened his eyes just enough to see the intent look on his master's face, quiet and focused on the task of cleaning him. Threetoo shut his eyes again, sensing that his master was about to look in his direction, and a second later his master pushed Threetoo's right foot back. Threetoo offered the left without being prompted, sinking into the pleasure of his master's touch and the certainty of doing right. 

The soft rushing of water cut off, leaving Threetoo and his master in an all-new silence, broken by the lapping of water and their breathing.

"Kneel up," his master murmured, and Threetoo obeyed, spreading his knees wide for his master to wash between them. As always, his master washed to the tops of his thighs and his genitals with the same efficient gentleness as he washed Threetoo's feet. He motioned for Threetoo to turn his back, and Threetoo shuffled around on his knees, closing his eyes and bowing his head as his master washed his ass and then his back, pausing to soap the cloth again. 

"Okay, you can sit." His master tapped the top of his shoulder, and Threetoo sank back into the warmth of the water and the froth of bubbles. His master, behind him, washed his stump and under it, then his right arm from fingertips to armpit. He washed Threetoo's neck and throat, and behind his ears, and then Threetoo heard an odd slithery metallic sound and carefully didn't look around to see what made it.

"Here, look." His master leaned forward a little, holding the object out for Threetoo to see without turning his head. It looked like a detachable showerhead; the metallic sound was from the flexible jointed-metal hose.

Threetoo looked sharply away from it the silver shine of it, flexing his right hand under the water and pushing up clouds of foam. He tried to see the individual iridescent bubbles, and not--anything else. What else should he see? There was nothing here but a bathtub and his master. 

"It's okay, it's nice this way. You can rinse without putting your head underwater," his master explained. Threetoo didn't know why his master should care whether Threetoo had to put his head underwater; maybe it was a preference of his master's that he assumed everyone shared.

There was a gentle rush of warm water on his shoulder, giving him a moment to learn the sensation before it shifted to the back of his neck and then squirted behind each ear, making him shiver again though the water was perfectly warm. 

"There, all clean," his master murmured. "Hair next, tip your head back for me."

Threetoo obeyed, letting his eyes almost close as the soft spray of water moved to his head, soaking his hair without spilling a drop onto his face. His master set down the sprayer--Threetoo could feel the warm disturbance in the water as it poured into the bath just behind his right elbow--and picked up a bottle. Threetoo smiled in anticipation at the sound of it uncapping, and then there was the cool heavy touch of shampoo on the crown of his head.

"Hmm, I think I spotted your favorite part of your present," his master murmured, as he gathered up Threetoo's hair with both hands, rubbing the shampoo around.

Threetoo licked his lips and whispered, "Thank you, sir."

"You're very welcome, sweetheart," his master murmured, rubbing strong fingers over his scalp, working the shampoo in everywhere.

Threetoo's eyes closed and he lost himself in his master's touch, his master's kind attention. It all fit into place now. It all made sense. No new rules to remember, no data to collect or report. This was _easy_. 

His master took his time washing Threetoo's hair, then carefully rinsed it with the sprayer, running perfectly heated water through it. His hands were gentle, combing through Threetoo's wet hair to make sure every strand was rinsed, and then just playing the warm water over his head.

The slave opened his eyes and looked up at his master with a little smile. His master was just drawing it out now. The slave twisted under the water without shifting out from under it, but his master withdrew it as soon as he started to move.

The slave's smile widened as he put his hand down between his master's feet to steady himself, leaning into the inviting angle of his master's thighs. His master still had his pants on, but he had also refrained from getting the slave's face wet, so if he was very careful he could do this correctly. He nuzzled at the inside of his master's thigh, and his master said--

But he _knew_ what to do; he knew what needed to happen next.

His master's voice rose, but the sound glanced off his perfect certainty. He knew what to do. Even if he was punished later--he couldn't avoid being punished. He would be honored to be punished. Now there was only the careful brushing of nose and lips toward his master's crotch, not letting his wet hair drip or his wet skin touch.

His master's hands were on him, and he pushed into the touch, pleased at the evidence that he was doing right. He gave a coy glance up as he brushed his lips against his goal, but--

His master-- _Sir_ \--

He dropped his gaze and pushed, and his master pushed back hard, shoving him away. He fell under the surface of water, and the sudden silence of immersion made him aware that his master had been not just speaking to him but shouting. Threetoo squeezed his eyes shut against the belated pulse of pain and sick terror, scrabbling at the bottom of the tub with his one hand to stay underwater where his master had put him, to hide from whatever was going to happen when he came back up. 

But his master's hands were on him again, hauling him out into the cool air, and he couldn't do anything but open his eyes. Time was stuttering on him, but he still saw, in horrible flashes, his master's wide eyes and pale, stricken face, his master's clothes wet from fishing him out of the tub.

"Jesus Christ, Threetoo," his master gasped, at some point, still standing in the water, still holding him half out of it. "Don't--don't do _any_  of that ever again, please, okay?"

Threetoo nodded, because there was nothing he could do but obey the order, however vaguely worded, however little he was sure what he _had_  done. 

His head was throbbing with punishment-pain, and time skipped forward in dizzying jumps: he was out of the tub. He was wrapped in towels and lying on the floor while his master leaned over the sink, his hands braced on its surface and shoulders heaving. His master was carrying him.

He was in his room, lying on the floor, and his master was drying his hair, pausing only to take a sip of Scotch--something Threetoo had never seen or smelled on him in the last six days--from the glass on the floor beside him. He was in the pillow box, and his master was sitting on the floor just outside and the glass was empty.

His master was gone. The pain was gone. That jump in time felt different; time steadied now, and he realized that he must have slept. He lay still for a moment, tempted to burrow deeper into his pillows and blankets and hide from whatever further punishment awaited him.

His gaze fell on his plant. The light had shifted--it was afternoon now--and the plant was in shade. He sat up and moved it into the light, and then realized he was thirsty, and got himself some water from the tap.

He heard quiet footsteps approaching and looked toward the door just in time to see his master step into view. He stopped right on the threshold, leaning against the doorframe with his hands at his sides, saying nothing, giving no directions.

He was wearing different clothes, and looked tired, but not dangerously drunk. He looked like Threetoo's familiar master, who was good to him, who didn’t believe in punishing, only correcting. 

Threetoo's chest ached with something he couldn't name, and he moved quickly, scrambling out of the pillow box and across the carpeted floor to kneel at his master's side. He pressed his face to the outside of his master's hip, careful not to put his face where he had before, when he--when he did the wrong thing that had seemed right. His master had told him not to do that again.

His master's hand settled on top of his head, keeping him there, assuring him that this was the right place for him to be. The ache in his chest didn't ease, exactly, but he thought he could grow used to it. 

"From now on you take showers," his master said quietly, rubbing his fingers through Threetoo's dry hair. "And you are not doing any job but getting better until I tell you to. Got it?"

Threetoo nodded against his master's hip, and his master took his hand away.

"Okay. Come on, time for you to eat something. Gotta get that weight up, right?"

Threetoo straightened up and nodded, looking up at his master.

"And you need this, don't you?" His master drew the shiny red collar out of his pocket, with its gold star still attached.

Threetoo put his chin up and his master gently closed the collar around his throat, then ruffled his hair again. Threetoo caught the over-sweet smell of soft vanilla, and he felt a little sick as he crawled after his master, but he knew he would eat what he was given. It was his job to get well.

And if he was good enough, he would find a way to make his master smile again. Maybe that would make the ache inside him go away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This chapter is also on Tumblr!](http://dsudis.tumblr.com/post/151460126039/pillow-box-fill-3-bathtime)


	4. Sam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Sam comes to visit Threetoo in the penthouse._   
>  _Threetoo's first mutual interaction with Sam._   
>  _Threetoo meeting someone new and Tony talking him though it?_

Sam set down the box of supplies he'd checked out of the clinic and pulled his phone out to check whether he had time to start sterilizing and setting things up before he needed to get to his first group. He did--it wasn't even eight yet--but while he was looking at his phone a text popped up from Tony Stark.

_Can you spare me an hour of your time in the middle of the day?_

_By me I mean 32557038, the caged slave you brought up to intake last week. Although also me._

Sam frowned. He hadn't given the caged slave a lot more thought once he left him in the room for Tony to come and deal with; given the obvious physical injuries and the scary malnutrition, he had figured that one was going to be under medical supervision for a long time. He'd also figured that Tony had some connection with the guy, knew him somehow, but Tony was referring to him by his serial number, which was pretty fucked up, and also not normal for Tony at all. 

Sam glanced at the box of stuff he'd acquired so Steve could do unspecified surgery on himself. Given how cagey Steve was being, Sam had already concluded it had to be something both sexual and horrific. 

It was just going to be that kind of day, that much was obvious.

Sam checked his calendar and texted Tony back. _I'm free from 11 to 1. What's up?_

Tony replied instantly. _Threetoo won't eat solid food without being handfed. I want to see if I can delegate, or if I am literally the only person he can accept food from. You're the only person he's met other than Fox who he doesn't have negative associations with, and I don't want to make him scared of her too._

That sounded like Emily was seeing 32... _Threetoo_. Sam could sound her out a little about what he was likely to be walking into, and she could reassure him that Tony hadn't gone totally off the rails keeping this slave.

 _Any time after 11 would be great_ , Tony added.

 _See you then_ , Sam replied. He took a last glance toward his bathroom and mentally pushed that off to the end of his shift. If he didn't get the setup done before Steve turned up, Sam would just make him help, maybe tell him some exciting infection and contamination stories as they worked. 

For now, he left the supplies in their box and headed for Emily's office by way of the Starbucks on the 12th floor.

* * *

Emily took the lemon bar and iced mocha and let Sam sit down with his own coffee and baked goods, giving him an only mildly skeptical look. "I assume this means you know I'm going to ask you about the stuff you checked out from the clinic and you're just trying to get the conversation over with early. And efficiently, while we both caffeinate."

Sam winced. "No, actually, this is me buttering you up in hopes you'll bend confidentiality for me a little."

Emily raised her eyebrows and fastened her lips on the green straw, obviously in no hurry to tell him anything. 

Sam shook his head and looked down at his own slice of cake. "Tony asked me to come up to the penthouse a little later, help him with... Threetoo?" 

He looked up at the sound of Emily's plastic cup hitting her desk. She was frowning down at its surface, but glanced up after a second. "Have you met Threetoo before?"

Sam nodded. "Sorta. Brought him in from the truck after I helped Tony get Steve up to intake. Tony asked me to put him in a low-impact room, said he'd look after him personally, and I figured... I dunno, they must know each other or something, and Tony wanted a word before he put the guy into the regular intake process, or knew he was going to be freaking out and meant to calm him down. He was in a cage. It was obvious by his position and posture that he was awake and alert, but he kept his eyes closed the whole time. I talked to him, told him what I was doing as I brought him upstairs. That's it."

Emily nodded and picked up her cup, still giving him nothing. Sam had been through enough therapy to know that meant it was still his turn to talk. She clearly wanted to know what he knew about Threetoo before she decided what else she could tell him.

"He was--he looked almost _dead_. Emaciated, burns, and you could smell the infection in what was left of his arm, it was nasty. Plus he--" Sam glanced at Emily, his voice faltering as he got a really bad feeling about what she wanted to know if he knew. "He... was obviously a sex slave, and obviously it hadn't been long since he was last..." Sam gestured vaguely.

Emily nodded. "He still believes that he is one, or will be once he's physically recovered. He adheres to a lot of hardcore protocol and refuses to wear clothes in Tony's presence--out of Tony's presence I think he honestly just doesn't notice that he's naked."

Sam opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. He couldn't doubt Emily's--or Tony's--commitment to rescuing slaves and getting them to safety. It was _not possible_ that Tony was actually using, or planning to use, Threetoo as a sex slave. 

But having eliminated the impossible, Sam had no idea what was left. 

"Tony doesn't usually stick around the slaves," Sam said slowly, feeling his way. "Even when he sees them up close during a rescue, he backs way off as soon as they're here."

Case in point, despite that business in the elevator that Steve probably didn't remember, and despite Steve now working up on the 91st floor, Sam was pretty sure Steve had never seen Tony since the night he was rescued.

Once again, Emily nodded slightly and stayed silent, so Sam set himself to figuring out the Tony side of things, trying to put words to things he'd barely noticed, the joking-not-joking things Tony said sometimes. "He's borderline compulsive about keeping his distance. He expects all of them to hate him. He doesn't... impose his presence on them."

Between the magnitude of what Tony did for these people and the traumas they'd suffered beforehand, it was almost impossible for him to interact with them at all without implicitly seeming to ask them for some quid pro quo, if only gratitude. Sam thought Tony took it a little further than he needed to, in most cases, but taking things a little too far was Tony Stark's MO. 

"Well, you don't usually pull buddy duty with newcomers, either," Emily pointed out. "And you definitely don't make off with medical supplies including scalpels for newcomers to make use of in private."

Sam looked away. 

He wanted to say that Steve wasn't a _duty_ , but the fact that it had started without Sam being officially assigned didn't change the nature of their relationship. Steve was freshly rescued form a horrific situation, and he needed someone to trust, someone to guide him. Sam knew he was doing that, and he knew, logically, that regular assigned buddies would feel this same fierce affection for their charges. 

He still wanted to insist that he wasn't Steve's buddy but Steve's _friend_. He really, really didn't want to think about whether Tony struggled with making some similar argument about whatever was going on between him and Threetoo.

"Threetoo is nowhere near making the leap and figuring out what's going on here," Emily said. "I meet with him regularly, but he's definitely one of those for whom unexpected liberation is also a trauma. Given his physical condition and a psyche that I am still trying to get the least part of a handle on--we're not pushing him to take another trauma on board, not yet."

"Tony..." Sam frowned. "Tony doesn't deal with these people. He doesn't have training. Are you sure he knows how to..."

"No," Emily said frankly. "He's probably not getting everything right. But Threetoo is a hard case; I don't think anyone would get everything right with him. He feels secure with Tony and is sleeping at night, relearning how to eat, doing math I don't understand for fun, and hasn't been raped in eight whole days, so Tony's not getting everything wrong, either."

Sam nodded slowly. 

"I'll send you some stuff to read about eating disorders and severe malnutrition, and the kind of protocol he's adhering to," Emily added, turning slightly away from him to indicate that they were done for now. "Oh, and I'm sure Tony will tell you, but don't touch him. He doesn't like being touched by anyone who isn't Tony."

Sam frowned, glancing down reflexively at his own hands and the chunk of pound cake he was holding. "I'm supposed to _hand feed him_."

"Hope you have steady hands, then," Emily said absently. "Because he really, really doesn't like being touched."

* * *

Sam managed to read most of the stuff Emily sent him--worryingly, she also sent a bunch of information on absence seizures and different kinds of dementia and memory loss--before his groups. It was a relief to close the files and go sit with his veterans and talk to them about the kinds of trauma and readjustment he was used to helping with. After a couple of hours he was back to feeling like he knew what he was doing and was some kind of real help to somebody.

Then he went back to his apartment to drop off his stuff and saw the box of medical supplies for Steve and his laptop open where he'd been reading. He itched to go cram a little more before the practical test, but he texted Tony instead. 

_I'm free now, should I come up?_

_Yeah, now is good. J might keep you in the elevator for a minute until Threetoo's ready for you to come in, don't be alarmed._

Sam snorted and headed back out of his apartment to the elevator that went up to Tony's private floors. 

"Penthouse?" Sam said as he stepped into the elevator.

"Indeed," JARVIS replied as the doors closed. 

"Did Tony not tell him I was coming until right now?" Sam was reminded of his sister planning trips for her kids, surprising them with the news when they came out of school so they wouldn't be worked up for weeks beforehand. 

"He did not," JARVIS agreed. "But 32557038 seems to be accepting the news with equanimity."

Sam wasn't ready for the elevator doors to slide open and plunge him into this situation, but as it happened, he wasn't really plunged into anything. He stepped out into the huge soaring space of the penthouse... living area? Great room? It was bigger than Sam's entire apartment several times over even without counting the kitchen area he could see into, and there was nothing in it but some reasonably comfortable-looking couches and chairs.

There were strategically positioned pillows, he noticed, next to one armchair and one couch. They were flat and plush, the size of dog beds, and thanks to his rapid skim-reading about sex slave-- _bedslave_ , if you were gonna be that fancy--protocol, he had a really good idea what they were for.

"Sam! Hey, thanks for coming up." Tony appeared, jogging down the stairs in the casual clothes he had been wearing on the handful of other occasions Sam passed him in the halls somewhere above the 85th floor. This was the Tony Stark who Sam knew as a sort of colleague, unlike the suit-wearing slickly-smiling guy he saw sometimes on TV. Last week, when he'd helped Tony bring Steve inside, his suit had been profoundly obvious as a costume that the Tony he knew was wearing.

There was no sign of Threetoo; Sam glanced uneasily at the pillows and wondered if he wasn't actually mobile on his own. Or...

"He's not still in that cage, is he?" Sam blurted, finally running out of the ability to silently absorb all of this shit.

Tony stopped short at the bottom of the stairs, his expression startled for a fraction of a second and then a little pained. 

"No! No, we are a totally cage-free environment up here. I don't know what happened to that thing, actually. Probably didn't just get tossed in the dumpster. JARVIS? Do we recycle cages?"

"32557038's transport cage has been placed in storage on the 90th floor," JARVIS said. "It was categorized as a personal item, out of an abundance of caution, and since he arrived with no other material possessions."

Sam winced. The 90th floor was all storage--paper files on slaves who had left, because the information was safer on paper than anything networked, a few unlabeled locked doors Sam didn't plan on asking about, and an endless series of rooms that warehoused stuff that rescues had come in with and didn't ask to keep with them. Up there in bankers boxes were a lot of collars and uniforms and body jewelry; they were held until the person they belonged to left Stark custody or until they asked for those things back, for whatever they might want to do with it. A lot of that stuff wound up getting burned in the little park on the roof. 

Sam didn't know how Threetoo would go about destroying the cage, if and when he was well enough to want to, but if Tony was this involved he would probably be supplied with all the lasers and explosives he could want for the job. 

Tony looked like he might also be contemplating laser-cutting that cage--which Sam remembered, from having to get the thing off the truck, almost certainly weighed more than Threetoo did. It had been solid enough that it seemed like it could hold back a rabid mastiff, never mind a toothpick-thin slave who was missing most of one arm.

Tony shook his head, refocusing on Sam. "No, he's just--I thought I should probably give you a better idea of what to expect than you have. Unless Dr. Fox did that already?"

Sam shook his head. "I mean, I have all of this totally nonspecific background knowledge about refeeding, bedslave protocol, absence seizures, and memory loss, and she did tell me not to touch him, but..."

Tony nodded and gestured over toward the couches. Sam sat down as far as he could from any of the strategically placed kneeling pillows. Tony gave him a wry look and kicked one over to rest beside his feet. He sat down at the other side of it, with most of the length of the couch between them. "He likes to be between my feet, but he doesn't belong to you, so he'll keep more of a distance."

Sam nodded. "Okay."

"He won't be wearing clothes. He remembers you putting a blanket or something over his cage when you brought him up to intake, and he is tentatively on board with you covering him with a blanket after I leave."

Sam looked around for blankets immediately. 

Tony said, "He's picking out a few suitable candidates, he'll bring them down. He probably won't stand or walk in your presence but if he does, _do not react_. Act like that's normal and you didn't expect him to do anything else. He'll walk sometimes when I'm out of the penthouse--I tried to pitch you as someone on my staff and of lower status than Emily or Dr. Cho, to see if we can get him to categorize you the same as JARVIS and the bots--somebody he doesn't have to perform for who doesn't have power over him except to carry out my instructions."

"Which... I am," Sam pointed out. 

Tony pointed firmly at him. "Yes. See? Works out great."

Sam glanced toward the stairs and back down. "And he has memory loss? Is he going to get confused about who I am? I mean--I guess not, if he remembers me from eight days ago?"

Tony nodded. "He remembers you. So far neither I nor Dr. Fox can figure out if he knows _anything_ from before eight days ago, including his own name, except that he does math like somebody who's had some formal education in it. He does have a certain amount of baseline background knowledge, but there are all kinds of weird gaps. He gets agitated at any mention of stuff that happened before he came here, or anything that draws attention to everything he doesn't remember, so, you know, confine all small talk strictly to the present?"

Sam raised his eyebrows. "Wasn't planning to ask him where he lost that arm, man."

Tony's mouth twisted up on one side. "Yeah, definitely not that. And if you can, you need to avoid drawing attention to his seizures, too. Just ignore them, pretend they don't happen. He gets upset trying to watch any kind of video or movie because he can tell he's missing things, so the easiest thing, if you aren't practiced at spotting them, is to just not talk to him all that much. The seizures get worse when he's stressed, and this is going to stress him, so he's going to be having a lot of them; if you try to talk to him continually you'll get a bad feedback loop going. You know Heimlich, right? That's an exception to not touching him, obviously, if he chokes."

Sam nodded. That possibility had crossed his mind, reading the information on absence seizures, but he'd hoped that it was more remote than this. 

"And I'll come back in right away, if that happens," Tony added. "He'll be upset, but I'll take over from there. And honestly if we get him that close to swallowing food without me in the room I'll count this as a success."

Sam nodded slowly. "So you're... not going far."

Tony gave him a look like he was crazy. "Well I thought about just giving you twenty bucks for pizza and hopping on a plane for Malibu, but then I thought maybe I should be a little closer than that the first time, yeah."

Sam elected not to point out that Tony had just made it sound like he was leaving Sam in charge of _Tony's child_ rather than a slave Tony had somehow ended up taking charge of a little more than a week ago.

On the other hand, if Tony had been handfeeding Threetoo everything he ate every few hours for the last eight days, that was... a hell of a bonding experience. Sam wasn't willing to be out of earshot while Steve did whatever he needed to do tonight, and Steve was mostly in his right mind and shockingly physically resilient; he couldn't really throw stones at Tony for hovering.

"Yeah, okay, fair," Sam said. "You sure you don't want to try this with you in the room, first?"

Tony shook his head. "I'm going to tell him that you're watching him for me, and to obey you while I'm gone, and see if that works. If I'm here..." 

Tony trailed off, staring down at the pillow on the floor for a moment.

"I... strongly suspect that if I'm here, he'll do it no matter what," Tony said finally. "Because I told him to do it and he wants to please me. But it fucks with him to go against all this protocol he's trained in, and I don't want to hurt him or... set him off."

Sam raised his eyebrows, sending a new kind of glance over Tony. He was a pretty strong guy, in the mostly-practical sense of somebody who liked to work on machinery and heaved pieces of it around while he did it, but he wasn't a fighter. 

Sam couldn't see any marks, but that didn't mean much. "Does he get violent?"

Tony snorted, his gaze jerking up to meet Sam's, and he was smirking like that was a nasty joke. "No. Not like that. And not in any way you have to worry about; you're not a guest, I was very clear about that. No hospitality for you."

Sam felt a little sick at the implication. "Tony, if _you're_ worried--"

"It's fine, he's fine, he didn't do anything bad," Tony said firmly. "It's--an abundance of caution, that's all. And anyway, if I have to be in the room for him to eat I might as well be feeding him, right? This is just a diagnostic test. If we have to get into prolonged food training so he can eat with someone else that'll be a whole other thing. Extended exposure therapy for a traumatic eating disorder isn't in your job description, as far as I know."

Sam shrugged. "Fifteen percent of my job description is _Other duties as assigned_ , actually."

Tony snorted. "Yeah, well, remind me to write something for your personnel file, for your next performance evaluation. JARVIS--"

"Noted," JARVIS said. "And 32557038 is on his way down."

Tony twisted in his seat, looking toward the elevators, and Sam followed his gaze. The one on the left opened, and even though he had just done all the damn reading, Sam still looked at head height first and saw only a robot. He had to adjust his gaze downward to find Threetoo on his hands-- _hand_ \--and knees. He was wearing a collar now, a gaudy red thing with one gold star to the side of the golden tag dangling from his throat.

He looked thinner than Sam remembered, which might be an artifact of him being up and moving, or just his mind refusing to hold on to exactly how thin Threetoo really was. But he had his chin up, his eyes open and bright, and he was clean and obviously well cared for, all his injuries now healed. Even the stump of his left arm was closed in a neat pink scar now, though Sam would have expected an infection like the one he'd smelled to take a hell of a long time to beat.

Sam's reading hadn't made him anything like an expert, but he could see the care Threetoo took with his posture as he crawled toward them, his head held high and back straight. It shouldn't have been possible for him to be graceful, but he was. And his eyes stayed fixed on Tony like he was the North Star.

Sam shifted around to face front, letting Threetoo, trailed by a large industrial robot making like a St. Bernard in nanny mode, make his way around to the front of the couch without him watching.

"Here, sweetheart, on the cushion," Tony directed, his voice gone soft and warm. 

Sam glanced over at Tony, but he showed no sign of being aware that he'd said anything strange. Threetoo settled on the cushion between them, sitting on his heels facing the couch, so that he didn't have his back to either of them. 

He looked up at Sam for the first time. 

Sam smiled, raising one hand in a wave. "Hi, Threetoo. Good to see you up and around. I'm Sam. I helped bring you in the night you arrived."

Threetoo nodded, and raised one hand to sign in rapid fingerspelling. Green letters appeared in the air above his hand, JARVIS translating the signs. _I remember. Hello, Sam. Thank you._

"Hey, no problem," Sam said, signing back, _You're welcome_. "Just doing my job."

Threetoo nodded acknowledgement and turned his attention toward Tony, who was beaming at him like he'd done a magic trick. Tony turned it down a notch as he said, "Okay, sweetheart, I've gotta head down--" Tony stopped abruptly, like a frozen video, and Sam looked and realized that he had reacted to Threetoo going unnaturally still. 

"Is that..." Sam said.

"Yep," Tony replied, barely moving his lips, his eyes fixed intently on Threetoo. "Don't think you have to--" He suddenly became animated again. "To the lab now, like I said, but Sam's going to hang out here like we talked about. You're gonna be a good Threetoo while I'm gone, right?" 

Threetoo nodded, darting another glance at Sam. 

"And if Sam tells you to--" Tony froze again, and Sam looked down to see Threetoo was gone again. "He drinks!" Tony said in an entirely different, urgent tone. "By himself! Don't react to that eith--" Tony snapped into animated motion again, "do something, then he's telling you for me, and I want you to do your best to do what he tells you, right?"

Threetoo bit his lip but nodded again, looking cautiously at Sam, then glancing toward the stack of blankets on the base of the robot who had followed him out of the elevator. 

"We both know I'm not your master," Sam tried, "I know it's not gonna be the same--"

"Stop," Tony put in. 

Sam stopped, watching Threetoo's motionless face until he blinked, refocusing. 

"It's okay," Sam offered awkwardly, not sure how much Threetoo had missed; he could see why Tony had told him it was better to just not talk to him too much, because he obviously wasn't going to pick up Tony's trick of stopping and starting along with Threetoo anytime soon. "I'm not gonna tell you to do anything weird."

Threetoo's blank expression got blanker, and Sam tried not to wince visibly. Tony put a hand out to stroke over Threetoo's hair and added, "JARVIS will be watching all the time. If anything happens that I need to know about, or if there's reason for me to come back, he'll let me know. But Sam is here because I want him to be here, and you're going to be a good Threetoo for me and do what Sam tells you while I go do some work."

Threetoo was visibly comforted by the promise of constant surveillance. 

Honestly, Sam was relieved himself. At least he wouldn't be responsible for judging when things had gone too far wrong and he had to call Tony back.

Tony gave Threetoo a last few touches, leaning down to murmur something in his ear, and then left without further ado. As soon as the elevator door closed behind him, Threetoo was watching Sam, and Sam stood up and walked over to the robot. 

Threetoo's eyes followed him, and when he crouched beside the stack of folded blankets, Sam looked back, meeting Threetoo's eyes. He didn't bother asking, he just watched Threetoo's face as he moved his hand down to the second blanket, then the third, then...

Threetoo bit his lip, eyes widening faintly, so Sam pulled out that blanket--a hot pink fleece monstrosity that was pleasantly hefty and soft as hell. He stood to shake it out, then draped it over Threetoo where he was sitting on the pillow. 

He wondered why Threetoo had even brought the whole stack of blankets down, rather than just presenting Sam with either the blanket he thought was proper or the one he really wanted. Threetoo didn't look at Sam or the rest of the blankets once he was covered up, just curled down on his cushion and reached up to pull a StarkTab out from under a cushion on the couch. 

There was no lunch in evidence, and Sam figured that when it was time for Threetoo to eat, food would appear, which meant they had some time to kill here. That was probably good. They could acclimate to each other, Threetoo could calm down from Tony leaving him alone with Sam and Sam could demonstrate that he really wasn't going to do anything weird in Tony's absence. 

Sam grabbed the top blanket on the stack--the one that Threetoo probably considered the most presentable, like the towels his mom put in the downstairs bathroom when company was coming over. It was velvety soft, striped in muted brown and green that mostly reminded Sam of jungle camo. He went back to the couch and sat down where he'd been before, but now he turned sideways, leaning against the arm of the couch, and pulled the blanket over himself. 

Threetoo didn't exactly pick up his head and stare, but he went really still for a few seconds, which Sam suspected was about as close to saying _what the fuck_ as Threetoo was going to get with him.

Sam said, "Do you need this one?"

Threetoo unfroze and shook his head slightly, then, moving cautiously, he reached toward the blankets. U rolled closer, so Threetoo didn't have to stretch off his cushion, and Threetoo grabbed one of the remaining blankets. He rolled it into a little log to prop his chin on while he poked at the tablet. 

Sam pulled out his phone and started checking his email, keeping half an eye on Threetoo as he did. There were a few times he went oddly still, but Sam wasn't actually sure whether he was having seizures or just thinking intently about whatever he was doing on the tablet. Emily and Tony had both mentioned him doing math, which seemed like the kind of thing that might require some staring into space. JARVIS didn't say anything to Sam and Tony didn't reappear, so if he was having seizures, it couldn't have been bad enough to worry about.

Sam had almost actually forgotten what he was there for--that he wasn't just chilling on Tony's couch, keeping Threetoo company, for no particular reason--when the robot abruptly whirred off to the kitchen. Threetoo froze in a different way, then, and Sam sat up, pushing his blanket aside and setting his phone down.

"JARVIS?"

"Lunch will be served shortly, gentlemen."

"Okay," Sam said, looking down at Threetoo, using his most soothing patter-for-new-arrivals voice. "So, like Mr. Stark said, you--"

Threetoo actually looked up at him then, a direct steady gaze, and Sam stopped short, abruptly aware that he had been underestimating Threetoo. He wasn't stupid. All the song and dance Tony had done before leaving to make this okay for him didn't mean he didn't understand what they were doing here, and also...

Also, Sam was abruptly aware of why you might feel the need to put this man in a cage that weighed more than he did. 

The effect wasn't spoiled, exactly, by the way the awareness went in and out of Threetoo's eyes twice in the minute it took U to come back with food, but it made something twist painfully in Sam's chest. His mind flashed on the polar bear in Central Park, ceaselessly swimming his figure eights in his little pool, an apex predator turned into public entertainment. 

Then Threetoo looked away toward the robot, as it rolled up with a tray, and Sam was back to figuring out how to do the job he'd come here for. Sam set the tray down beside him on the couch, giving its contents a quick look. It had obviously been set up to make this simple for him--one half of the tray held his own usual lunch order at the building cafeteria: turkey sandwich, chips, vitamin water that he knew wasn't really any better than soda but drank anyway. 

The other half was, therefore, obviously for Threetoo. Chicken cut into cubes, some kind of multigrain crackers, baby carrots, strawberries, and a bottle of luridly purple sports drink. Sam uncapped the bottle and handed it over to Threetoo, who sat up and took a sip, letting his blanket hang loosely around him. It covered his lap, which was all Sam really cared about. 

"Okay," Sam said, watching Threetoo's face to be sure he was in there. "Here we go. Take your time."

He picked up half a strawberry and held it out, close to Threetoo's face but not trying to jam it into his mouth. Threetoo's eyes went blank before Sam even had the berry in position; he glanced down to see if Threetoo's drink was in danger of spilling, but he had it resting in his lap with his hand curled around it. 

Sam flicked his gaze back up to Threetoo's face, and the emptiness of a seizure had been replaced by a frown of concentration. Sam opened his mouth to say something encouraging and then shut it again. Threetoo didn't want or need to be coaxed through this by Sam. He was going to try as hard as he could, and they both knew that already.

Sam looked away, instead, keeping his right hand steady and picking up his sandwich with his left. He took a bite, chewed and swallowed, and figured out how to get his chips and drink open one-handed. His arm was starting to ache with the strain of holding absolutely still, and then in his peripheral vision Threetoo swayed closer. Sam tried not to freeze unnaturally himself, but he made a little startled noise when Threetoo's lips brushed his finger as he took the strawberry. 

He let himself watch then. Threetoo went absent almost immediately, but his mouth stayed closed around the strawberry. Sam forced himself to take another bite of his sandwich, giving Threetoo something like privacy when he came back to himself and started effortfully chewing. He swallowed like he was trying to choke down pills, and Sam saw the tell-tale jerk of gagging reflected in his belly and chest, but he didn't choke.

Sam nodded toward his drink, and Threetoo took a quick sip while Sam eyed the other options. Everything else was going to be harder to swallow, but there was no use putting him through this for the caloric content of _strawberries_ , either. Sam picked up a piece of chicken and held it out, looking away again as Threetoo resumed his battle. 

It was the same as before, except that Threetoo gagged twice before he even started leaning in toward Sam's hand, and Sam was in actual pain from holding his hand steady by the time Threetoo took his bite of food. Sam jerked his hand back to flex it a little, out of sight, and took another bite of his sandwich while he carefully didn't watch Threetoo chewing. 

Eventually Threetoo took another sip of his purple drink, signaling that he'd won the fight with a one-ounce cube of chicken. Sam took a drink of his own vitamin water and picked up a carrot left-handed, twisting to offer it to Threetoo and give his right arm a rest. 

His gaze crossed Threetoo's face as he did, and their eyes met. Threetoo's expression of grim determination softened for an instant into something like a gallows humor Sam could recognize. He returned a look of wry sympathy-- _I know, man, this is some serious bullshit_ \--and Threetoo's eyes squeezed almost shut as he threw himself forward the few inches he needed to take the carrot from Sam's left hand.

It almost worked. Threetoo's face went slack with absence twice, but his jaw kept flexing mechanically both times, until the carrot had to be nothing but pulp in his mouth. His eyes opened wider as he finally swallowed, and he froze--the normal, startled kind--at the sight of Sam.

Then he gagged, hard, his whole body seeming to cave in from the center. He made a tiny wet sound as a glob of bright orange was ejected from his mouth onto the hot pink blanket. 

Sam was already on his feet, hands extended, but he didn't know how to help without touching. Threetoo jerked again and threw up a dark stream of liquid that had probably started out, a few minutes ago, as purple. 

Sam crouched lower, and got exactly far enough to see tears on Threetoo's face before he retched again, bringing up mostly bile this time. Sam didn't have time to pull back before he was being shoved firmly out of the way.

"Hey, sweetheart, here, I've got you."

Tony whipped the blanket--which had caught most of the vomit--out of the way, shoving it in the direction of a spreading spill and Threetoo's fallen juice bottle. Sam moved toward it to start mopping up the mess, but he couldn't help noticing that Tony had shown up with a damp washcloth, which he was already using to wipe Threetoo's face with one hand, smoothing his hair back with the other. He didn't seem to notice when Threetoo gagged again right over his hand. 

"Shh, shh, easy, I've got you," Tony repeated, gathering Threetoo's naked, shivering form into his arms and wiping his face again. "Just breathe, baby, just relax, it's all right. You were such a good Threetoo for me, you tried so hard to do that. I know you did, baby, it's okay, it's just new data, right? New data. Now we know how that went. It's okay. It's okay."

Sam managed to bundle up the blanket with all the wettest and smelliest parts to the inside, and looked toward Tony, who nodded and tossed the washcloth. Sam flipped a corner of the blanket over it and stood up as he realized that the convulsive movements of Threetoo's body weren't gagging anymore, but sobbing--both equally silent.

"I know, baby, I know, that was nasty, but I'm so proud of you," Tony was murmuring, his cheek against Threetoo's hair, his hands moving in gentle, soothing patterns over bare skin. "Shh, it's okay, we'll handle it. It'll be fine. You'll be fine. In fact, I think you need a reward for this, what do you think? Something to balance it out?" 

Tony tapped a thumb against Threetoo's red collar, the spot where there was a gold star on the other side. 

Sam turned away, feeling like he'd seen way more than he should have. He tried not to listen to any of the other things Tony whispered as he walked to the elevators. 

Still, he couldn't stop thinking of the awareness in Threetoo's eyes, that determined motion when he took his last bite; he couldn't imagine being down that far, and knowing it, and getting knocked down further. He was pretty sure he would cry in the arms of anybody who held still long enough if it happened to him.

He found himself back at his own apartment without having decided to go there. He still had more than an hour before his next group, but he couldn't face the cafeteria downstairs; the thought of food even without that many other people around was sickening. He took Threetoo's blanket and the washcloth into his kitchen, rinsing them under cold water to get the worst of the mess off.

His gaze fell on the box of supplies he'd picked up for Steve, and he glanced at the clock again. He had plenty of time to get started making a near-sterile space, and there wasn't anything better for him to do with his time right now.

As he got started scrubbing, thinking again about what was going to happen here tonight, he knew one thing for damn sure: he wasn't going to lay a finger on Steve unless Steve asked him to, no matter what he thought about Steve's choices. No matter how long he had to wait, watching out of the corner of his eye, or only listening if Steve wouldn't let him stay to supervise. 

He also knew he would be waiting right outside the door in case it all went wrong.


	5. Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not written to any specific prompts, just a hurt/comfort followup to #4. Happy 100th Birthday, Bucky!

By the time Threetoo managed to stop crying, the punishment pain had taken over his skull, the worst since he had come to his master. His master was still holding him, petting him and whispering to him, telling Threetoo that he was proud of him, that it wasn't his fault.

The punishment pain that filled his skull with a sensation like buzzing fire meant that it didn't matter whether it was his fault or not. He had failed in his duties—failed to eat, the simplest thing in the world—and he had to suffer for that. 

Threetoo went limp and quiet in his master's arms, keeping his eyes shut and trying to breathe shallowly. If he didn't move at all, the pain at least stayed almost the same from one second to the next. It was still unbearable, but as long as it was _steadily_ unbearable he could endure it without giving anything away.

His master's reassurances trailed away into quiet, and for a while his master simply held him, touching him gently. It might have been pleasant if he hadn't been struggling not to vomit again from the pain, and if even his master's gentlest touches hadn't felt as if they might unbalance him off some precarious edge.

Threetoo made himself as limp and heavy as possible. That was always safest, being boneless and unresisting with the lowest possible center of gravity. 

After a while his master sighed and said, “Yeah, you're out.”

He stood up, heaving Threetoo into the air with him. The movement made Threetoo suck in a breath, struggling to stay properly limp. His head was jostled a little, and the pain sharpened and sloshed, drowning out anything his master might have said at that instant. 

The next thing Threetoo knew was a sickening gentle swaying movement—his master was carrying him—and then they were rising on a smooth, precise vertical that still made him feel dizzy and even more wretched. More swaying as his master walked, and then he was lowered into his pillows.

He shivered at the loss of his master's warmth and the smothering, too-kind softness of the pillows around him. His master settled a blanket over him, which reminded him that he'd vomited on his favorite one, lightly touched his hair in a way that made the fire in his skull roar higher, and then vanished from Threetoo's awareness. 

He still felt dizzy and sick, as if the pillows were swaying under him. It made everything hurt worse, but he shoved the second-best blanket away and burrowed deeper, slipping down under the layers of pillows until he reached the padded floor of the box. There the heat and stuffiness built up quickly, but at least he felt sure that he was on solid ground.

* * *

Tony gave Threetoo an hour to sleep it off—which was not entirely coincidentally the time it took to get Threetoo's blanket back from Sam and get it cleaned—and then went to wake him. He was bound to be hungry once he wasn't just feeling sick and miserable, and Tony didn't want him missing meals, losing ground, just because Tony had gotten impatient with his feeding schedule and had to _experiment_.

Especially not when he had told Threetoo that eating was his job. Threetoo would be beating himself up over failing to do his job. Tony needed to get him back on track, give him some successes to feel good about, ASAP.

He was going to get right on that as soon as he finished having a heart attack, because when he walked up to Threetoo's pillow box the blanket Tony had settled over him was on the floor and Threetoo was nowhere to be seen.

After half a second of blind panic, Tony noticed Threetoo's toes sticking out of the drift of pillows and recognized the displacement that made the pillows mound up higher than usual.

Depressingly, Threetoo didn't actually make much of a lump under all his pillows and blankets.

Tony put his face in his hands and forced himself to breathe, summoning up the calm to be Threetoo's master of all positive feedback all the time. Then he sat down on the edge of the pillow box and reached in, squirming a hand down through the pillows and blankets until he found Threetoo's stick-thin wrist, his fingers closing easily around it. 

He gave it a gentle squeeze. “Hey, sweetheart, can you come up to the surface for me?”

He felt Threetoo jerk in his grasp and immediately let go. He sat back and watched Threetoo flail his way to the surface only to wince like a mole man at the light. 

“JARVIS, opaque the skylights, lights to 50 percent.” The room turned dim as a restaurant in romantic evening mode, and Threetoo relaxed onto his cushions with a visible, if not audible, sigh of relief.

Tony reached out again, running a hand gently down Threetoo's spine as Threetoo's eyes sagged shut. He was obviously exhausted by the whole ordeal, if reassuringly more alert and responsive than he had been earlier. He had passed straight from sobbing into unconsciousness in Tony's arms, with maybe a turn through one of his poorly-quantified fugue states on the way.

 _Figure out how many different problems he has with maintaining consciousness later_ , Tony reminded himself. _Get fluids and calories into him now._

The prominent bones under his hand were a pretty solid reminder of the priorities involved.

“Here, baby, I want you to eat something for me,” Tony said, reaching into his pocket for a little pod of energy gel. It was a sugary orange flavor that ought to be similar enough to the hard candies he'd enjoyed to be somewhere between unobjectionable and pleasant. “Just a little, you don't even have to chew, okay?”

Threetoo started to sit up and wavered.

Tony winced. “No, hey, you can stay in your pillow box to eat, just this once. I can see you're not feeling good, huh? Just—lie on your side. Come a little closer, okay?”

Threetoo sank back down as he nodded. He scooted over and through the pillows until he was curled toward Tony with his knees against the lip of the pillow box. He seemed like he was shivering again, though he'd evidently rejected the first blanket Tony covered him with and JARVIS always kept Threetoo's room warmer than the rest of the penthouse.

“Baby, you know I love to see you, but it's almost too dark anyway, and I think you're cold,” Tony said softly. “How about a blanket, huh? You can have your big pink one.”

Threetoo blinked, and then signed, _Sorry. Made a mess on it._

Tony shook his head, beckoning U to come in from the doorway where he was hovering. “No, hey, messes are no problem. Look, it's already clean, we took care of it.”

Or rather, Sam had taken care of it and then some high-powered laundry machines had finished the job. Tony had folded it, though, so that made it a team effort. It was still toasty warm from the dryer. He laid the violently pink blanket over Threetoo, tucking it gently around him, laying one fold loosely over his arm so he could keep warm and still be able to sign.

“Okay?”

 _Thank you, sir_ , Threetoo signed.

“You're welcome,“ Tony murmured. "Just want you to be warm and feel good, even when you're having a hard time. You know you didn't do anything wrong, don't you, baby?”

Threetoo bit his lip, looking up at him, and Tony ran a hand very gently over his hair. Threetoo went still under the touch—suppressing a flinch, Tony thought, hiding a wince of his own.

Right, back to business. He tore open the energy gel and held it to Threetoo's lips. “This is gonna be kind of a funny texture, just hold it in your mouth. Kind of swallow around it and let it go down slowly, okay? It shouldn't be too hard on your stomach that way.”

Threetoo parted his lips obediently, and Tony squeezed half of the packet into his mouth, just a little squirt of the stuff on his tongue. He watched the movements of Threetoo's mouth as he got the taste of it, moving it around his mouth. He looked puzzled by it, but at least not like he was going to puke again.

He licked his lips when it was gone, and Tony said, “Let's give that a second to hit your stomach, huh? You feel like it's gonna stay down?”

Threetoo signed, _yes, sir,_ rather than nodding, and Tony realized that he probably had a headache, on top of any lingering feeling of sickness. That could explain the flinch at Tony's touch on his head, and his burrowing down to hide from the light.

“Your head hurting you, baby?” Tony tried running a hand over Threetoo's side. 

No flinch this time, and Threetoo signed, _Yes, sir_ , again, and then, _Sorry, sir,_ and a half-hearted hand-flap to belatedly signal the pain.

“It's all right, you don't have to be sorry for hurting,” Tony said. “Go ahead and close your eyes if that feels better.”

Threetoo did, immediately, though he kept his face turned toward Tony. Tony could feel Threetoo's attention still on him, his face a little crumpled with tension or pain.

“Don't worry about not telling me, I should've asked sooner. It's not your fault. You're probably dehydrated. We'll get some fluids in you and then let you sleep some more, okay? J, check with Dr. Cho about what we can give Threetoo for a headache, please.”

“Checking now, sir,” JARVIS said, and U's arm extended through the door, holding a bottle of yellow-green calorie-boosted sports drink and a straw. It was a flavor Threetoo didn't drink often but showed no sign of disliking, so they wouldn't ruin a favorite for him if he was still feeling sick.

Tony took the cap off and tossed it back to U, sinking the straw into the bottle. He reached down to tuck the bottle between the front wall of the pillow box and the nearest pillow, then guided the straw to Threetoo's lips. 

“Just a sip, sweetheart, just like when you first came to me. You remember that?”

Threetoo took a careful sip and signed, _Yes, sir_ , and then, opening his eyes to look up, _start over?_

Tony remembered him signing those words before—right after Tony introduced him to DUM-E. Tony shook his head, running his hand over Threetoo's side again.

“No need to start over, Threetoo. This is just a temporary setback. We'll take it easy for the rest of today, but you've already made lots of progress, and we'll get back to it tomorrow. You're eating a lot more than you were on your first day, and you're doing great on your tests. Take another sip when you're ready, there.”

Threetoo took another sip, his eyes slipping shut again. U stuck his arm back in through the door and tossed the bottle cap back to Tony, now with a slightly-larger-than-straw-sized hole punched through it. When Threetoo had swallowed Tony gently removed the end of the straw from his lips so he could screw the cap on over it, then guided the straw back into place.

“There, basically spillproof, so you can just lie quietly and work on that. J, what's the word on headaches?”

“If the pain is not too severe, Dr. Cho prefers not to medicate at this time,” JARVIS said. “If the pain is intense enough to require it, she will need to examine—”

Threetoo's eyes squeezed shut more tightly and he quickly signed, _please, sir, don't need_.

“Okay, okay. Just look at me for a second, can you do that?”

Threetoo opened his eyes, turning his head a little to look at Tony straight on.

“Baby, if it hurts too much for you to sleep it off, you need to tell me.”

Threetoo winced, but shook his head. He signed, _It will go away, sir. Please._

“Does it hurt in one spot, or only on one side?” Tony asked.

Threetoo signed, _No, sir_.

His pupils were the same size, appropriately wide in the low light, and both sides of his face moved symmetrically when he winced. Tony reminded himself that there was no reason to think Threetoo had had a stroke or a concussion or anything major. He'd done something stressful and thrown up and then cried himself out and now he had a headache: he was a fucking human being.

“All right. I'll stop bugging you and let you sleep it off,” Tony said. “You keep on sipping that juice whenever you're awake. Come on out if you're feeling better, otherwise just rest and I'll come and bring you a little more to eat when it's time.”

_Thank you, sir._

“Just taking care of my Threetoo,” Tony murmured, squeezing gently on Threetoo's shoulder. “Anything else I can do to help you feel better?”

 _More dark please?_ Threetoo signed, his eyes opening to show the slightest glint of gray-blue in the already-dim room.

“Sure thing. J, just a night light.”

The overhead lights in Threetoo's room went completely dark, and no light came in from the bedroom. A little red light glowed inoffensively near the door.

Threetoo croaked out a very low, “Thank you, sir.”

Tony squeezed his own eyes shut, then curled down and kissed Threetoo's fingertips. “No problem, baby. Get some rest.”

* * *

Threetoo was able to obey his master, so he hadn't lied to avoid a visit from Dr. Cho. He rested, taking periodic sips from the straw, and the punishment pain slowly ebbed from his skull. He even slept, on and off.

He woke up and his master was beside him, a dim shape lit by the gentle red light. The pain was mostly gone by then, leaving behind the kind of exhaustion that weighted down his whole body, and an after-pain feeling like his skin was too thin, his whole body just an emptied-out eggshell. Any touch might shatter him.

But his master's hand, coming to rest on his knee, still covered in his blanket, only made him feel steadier.

“Hey, honey,” his master said, very low. “You think you can eat a little bit for me?

Threetoo nodded cautiously instead of signing his answer, and glimpsed his master's smile, the whiteness of his teeth reflecting the dim red light. "Good, that's good. You've got a fresh bottle of juice there, so take a sip first, this is pretty dry.”

Threetoo tilted his head slightly and found the straw, taking a careful sip. Red flavor this time, tasting sharp-sweet and cool. He let the straw slip from his lips, turning back toward his master.

His master held a plain salted cracker to his lips, and his mouth watered for it like he'd been starving. Threetoo closed his eyes and chewed it very carefully, focusing on feeling _hungry_ and not _sick_. They were too close together sometimes. But his master's steadying hand helped him remember.

“Ready for something else?”

Threetoo looked up, and only realized then that his master had been utterly quiet and still while Threetoo chewed and swallowed. Normally he talked to JARVIS, or to Threetoo, during meals, or he was looking at a tablet or some other work. He was never this still, never silent. But he was sitting here in the dark with Threetoo, doing nothing but waiting for him to be ready to eat.

Threetoo blinked rapidly as his eyes watered, and he nodded.

“Okay, here we go.” His master touched something cool and round to his lips, and Threetoo squeezed his eyes shut at the thought of a blueberry, now, for this. But it was a simpler sweetness that took him a second to identify as a green grape, readily washing the rest of the cracker down his throat when he swallowed. There was another when he parted his lips, and then another cracker. Threetoo closed his eyes and almost dozed again, rousing only to eat what was touched to his lips, lulled by the quiet and his master's care.

* * *

Tony stayed there, perched on the edge of the pillow box, even after he'd hit the absolute volumetric limit on what Threetoo's stomach could handle in a thirty-minute window, and he could let Threetoo's drowsing between bites settle into actual sleep.

It was weird and uncomfortable being in the penthouse in daylight without Threetoo nearby. He should have gone to the lab, or at least closed his office door, but he couldn't bear to be too far away in case Threetoo needed him, and he couldn't concentrate on much of anything. He was constantly listening for Threetoo's approach, as if JARVIS wouldn't warn him—by shutting all the lights off, if nothing else—as soon as he stepped foot outside the pillow box.

Finally Tony scrubbed his hands over his face and forced himself to leave. Sitting in the dark watching Threetoo sleep crossed several creepiness lines he really shouldn't be crossing, even if Threetoo had had a rough day.

“Dim lights, everywhere,” Tony said as he opened the bedroom door, and when he stepped outside the whole penthouse was pleasantly twilight-dim, all the windows opaque. He went down to the main room and put on five different TV windows, all with the volume down low enough that he could only make them out if he concentrated, before he called up a schematic to work on. The babble of voices and the seeming darkness made it feel almost normal, like his life before the last eight days. He'd been an expert at pushing past feeling like something was missing, last week.

JARVIS actually _didn't_ warn him, which Tony was going to feel a little betrayed by when he had time. Tony just saw a flash of hot pink out of the corner of his eye, and looked up to see Threetoo crawling around the end of the couch, clutching that hideous fleece blanket and trailing it behind him as he came. He hesitated, frowning, at the absence of his cushion near Tony's feet.

“Sorry, baby, didn't get that washed yet.”

Threetoo blinked and looked up at him almost in slow motion, like he was still half asleep and couldn't figure out what to do about not having a cushion to curl up on. He glanced toward the cushion by the armchair.

He could almost see Threetoo trying to work it out. Lay down there? Lay down on the bare floor by Tony? Pull the cushion over to Tony's feet? He was obviously too tired to even decide what he should do, let alone do it.

In the absence of Threetoo's usual certainty about what was correct, it felt dangerously like it wasn't protocol at all. Like it was just something Threetoo wanted enough to get out of bed for.

Tony shoved that thought away and focused on solving the problem.

“No, hey, come here, come up here.“ Tony patted the couch.

Threetoo looked uncertain. And, okay, they didn't share pieces of furniture… ever, but tonight was different, right? Even if it was… actually about five pm, whatever, it felt like the middle of the night, a little oasis of dim unreality. And it had been a rough day. For Threetoo.

Tony patted his thigh. "You can lie down and put your head right here, okay, honey? Nice and handy so I can pet you while I'm thinking and you can keep resting, I still want you to rest.”

Threetoo nodded, and dragged his blanket over, abandoning it on the floor as he crawled up onto the couch without ever raising any part of his body higher than Tony's lap. He eeled over and set his head exactly where Tony had indicated, resting on his thigh.

Tony leaned over him and grabbed the blanket.

“I still think you might be cold, so it's still blanket time. That was a good thought, bringing it down with you.” Tony flipped the blanket out expertly to cover Threetoo where he lay curled up on the cushions, and Threetoo's eyes were already closed by the time it settled into place. 

Tony sat back and ran a hand gently over his hair, and Threetoo just snuggled closer, tucking his face in against Tony's thigh. Tony squeezed his eyes shut, not letting himself wonder what that could mean, if Threetoo was awake enough for it to be deliberate—or if he wasn't.

“TV off. U, bring me a gold star for Threetoo?”

U brought him the entire box, as well as the soldering iron, and Tony set them both on the arm of the couch. Threetoo was still wearing his collar, and Tony wouldn't take it off him until he was awake enough to know that he was getting a reward. But this way everything was ready.

Then, settling his hand gently on Threetoo's head, he got back to work. This time it wasn't hard to concentrate at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This chapter is also on Tumblr!](http://dsudis.tumblr.com/post/158233484559/pillow-box-5-comfort)


End file.
